There is a
profound disdain behind these charitableintentions. This disdain first lies in the fact that reality isinstituted as a sort of life-saving insurance, or as a perpetualconcession, as if it were the last of human rights or the first ofeveryday consumer products. But, above all, byacknowledging that people place their hope in reality only, andin the visible proof of their existence, by giving them a realismreminiscent of St. Sulpice, they are depicted as naive andidiotic. This disdain, let us acknowledge it, is first imposed onthemselves by these defenders of realism, who reduce theirown life to an accumulation of facts and proofs, of causes andeffects. After all, a well-structured resentment always stemsfrom one's own experience.
Say: I am
real, this is real, the world is real, and nobodylaughs. But say: this is a simulacrum, you are only asimulacrum, this war is a simulacrum, and everybody burstsout laughing. With a condescending and yellow laughter, orperhaps a convulsive one, as if it was a childish joke or anobscene invitation. Anything which belongs to the order ofsimulacrum is obscene or forbidden, similar to that whichbelongs to sex or death. However, our belief in reality andevidence is far more obscene. Truth is what should belaughed at. One may dream of a culture where everyonebursts into laughter when someone says: this is true, this isreal.
All this defines
the insoluble relationship between thoughtand the real. A certain type of thought is an accomplice of thereal. It starts with the hypothesis that there is a real referenceto an idea and that there is a possible "ideation" of reality. This